Weight Of The World
by TestShip
Summary: Modern AU. John Bates is struggling to get his life back on track after a traumatic experience. He follows his mother's advice and seeks help with a therapist, Anna Smith. Can she help him get through this difficult period and ignore the growing connection between them?
1. Chapter 1

**Here's my new story, it's a modern one again with a rather dark undertone. Thank you very much to pussycatwithattitude for suggesting the title, editing my chapters, reviewing them and helping me construct this story. You truly are the best. ****Also, thank you poma14 for your opinions and helping me with the storyline, it means a lot to me. :)**

**I'd like to take this chance to thank you all for the reviews and favourites for my one-shot, Never Doubt. I enjoyed every single one. **

**Please let me know what you think of this one. **

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately not mine.**

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"John, can I call you John?"

He shrugged, "Can I call you Anna?"

She nodded, but he didn't see. His eyes were everywhere but on her, she knew this was going to be difficult, but she wouldn't give up. He must have been through an awful period and she wanted to help him, she knew she could. But so far he had answered all of her questions with another one.

"John, if I am to help you, then you'll have to give me more than just questions."

He avoided her intent gaze; this was exactly what he had been afraid of. He would have to tell everything to a stranger, things he wouldn't even tell his mum, because they would never understand. His wounds had started to heal, but he knew nothing could ever heal what was broken inside him.

"Why are you here, John?"

His eyes met hers for the first time since he came in, "You know why I'm here."

She stared straight back at him; she wouldn't let herself be intimidated. But he was right, she knew why he was there. It had been all over the news, the minute he was back in the country cameras had not left him alone. She had seen how broken he was – how alone – and she knew she could help him.

"Do you want to be here?"

"No."

"Then why are you?"

He leaned forward, his hands clasped under his chin, "Because..."

His voice died down and she urged him to continue on, "Because what, John?"

He sighed, leaning back again as his eyes locked onto hers, "Because my mother wanted me to see someone, before things got worse."

She nearly hadn't heard that last part, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke, "What do you mean by worse?"

He remained silent, looking past her with a distant look in his eyes. Anna tried to get through to him.

"John?"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, "I don't see how it could get worse."

She looked at him intently, he looked pale and the bags under his eyes betrayed the truth, that he hadn't been sleeping for a very long time.

"I guess she's just afraid."

"How so?"

He let out a bitter laugh, "That I'm going to turn out like my old man."

"What do you mean?"

He ignored her question, "That's why she wanted me to come here, I know that and she knows it too."

"She cares about you."

She thought she could see the shadow of a smile passing over his features, but it was gone before she could even think about it.

He shrugged, "It's what they do best."

"They?"

"Parents, they care."

"Do you feel like they care for you?"

"My mum does, I wouldn't know for my dad. I haven't seen him for thirty years."

There it was – the first thing he had shared with her. She knew from experience that a first session could be a difficult process, but once they shared something – it doesn't matter how small – that was one step forwards.

"Would you like to talk about that?"

He looked at her intently, "It's in the past, talking about it won't change a thing."

"The past is what guides us through the present, talking about it helps."

He moved uncomfortably on the sofa, "There's not much to tell."

She just watched him, not saying anything, waiting for him to begin. He avoided her gaze again and she found herself wondering what was going on in his mind, how she wished he would see that talking was the best thing he could do now.

His eyes found hers again, sighing before he relented. "He wasn't around much when I was a kid. I came home from school and he wasn't there, I went to bed, he wasn't there, I woke up, he wasn't there."

"How did that make you feel?"

"What do you think?" He sounded agitated, "I was just a kid and my dad wasn't there. Other dads picked their kids up from school, took them out to play football and mine, if he came home at all, sat in his armchair, a drink in one hand, the remote in the other."

He remained silent for a while looking around the room, just anywhere but her. She was still so young, how could she understand how his life had changed him? She knew what had happened, but she didn't know half of the story.

He looked around the room, trying to find something about her. A lot could be discovered about a person from the way they decorated their home, but this was her office. There was nothing private to see or she wouldn't have placed it here in the first place. This was the room where she received her patients and if there was one thing he knew about therapists, it was that they wanted to keep their private life separate from their work. His eyes went over the bookshelf, shaking his head as he noticed she had several books about Freud. _Typical_, he thought.

"What is it?"

The sound of her voice made him turn his head back to her, raising his eyebrows as if he hadn't heard what she said.

"Why were you shaking your head?"

"I just..." He pointed at her bookshelf, "You have several books about Freud."

She nodded, but she didn't say anything, sensing he wanted to say more.

"I visited his house in Vienna a few years ago."

She tried not to show her surprise, "What took you to Vienna?"

"An article." He looked out of the window, remembering the three days he spent there and a small smile formed on his lips.

She noticed the change in him, "How long were you there?"

"Only three days, but we saw the most important things."

"We?"

"Robert and I." He didn't know why, but he felt the need to explain himself, "We've been mates since primary school."

"You must have a strong bond then."

"I'd like to think we do. We studied together and even though I lived in Ireland for a couple of years after that, we kept in touch and then I started working for him."

"As a journalist?"

He locked his eyes with hers again, there was something in her blue eyes he couldn't quite put his finger on, but somehow it felt as if he found comfort there. He nodded, "He was the editor-in-chief, but every few months we would do a city trip together. We'd say it was for an article, but it never really was. We just wanted to go away, if only for a few days."

"What do you mean with wanting to go away?"

He sighed, the conversation had turned again, going from a happy place to the reason Robert took him out every few months.

"You really want to know everything, don't you?"

She remained silent, but that irritated him even more,

"I don't even know you and I have to tell you everything that messed up my life." He leaned forward, his hand going through his hair in a frustrated manner, "What do you want me to say? You know why I'm here, why do I have to tell you everything that happened before I was..." He shook his head, sighing, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued, "I don't even tell these things to people I know, why would I tell you?"

He looked up into her eyes again and she could see the pain hidden beneath, she knew she could help him if he would let her. She needed to earn his trust in some way. If he couldn't trust her, he wouldn't let her in.

"John, no one forced you to come here. You're free to go any time you want, but if you stay and you let me in, I can help you."

"I don't know if I can be helped."

"Will you let me try?"

He remained silent for a while, struggling with himself. His mother had wanted him to seek help and if he was completely honest with himself, he knew he needed it. This wasn't something he could do by himself, but telling everything to a stranger? Even if she seemed genuine, he never shared anything about himself to anyone. Only Robert knew him.

As if she could sense his inner struggle, she tried to break through it again. "Nothing you say will ever leave this room."

Her words struck something inside him and when he looked back in her eyes, he felt like it wouldn't do him harm to let her try and help him. At least she wanted to.

"I got married in my early twenties to a woman called Vera." She gave him a slight nod of the head as if they had come to an agreement and he continued, "Deep down I knew it wasn't a good idea, but I was young and I thought I was in love."

"What happened?"

"We weren't right together, it was a self-destructive relationship. We drank too much and in the end I just realised I'd had enough, enough of that life. It wasn't what I had imagined for myself."

"What did you imagine?"

"What everyone imagines I guess, a wife I loved and who loved me, and children. But I didn't know what it could be like. I never saw a happy family."

"And you didn't see it with Vera either?"

"No, not at all. She hated children and thinking about it I didn't even want children with her. I just couldn't see her as a mother figure."

"So you divorced her?"

"I left her, but she didn't even realise until a couple of days after I had gone. You see, she wasn't the most faithful of women."

"Did it hurt you?"

"I don't know, I didn't care at the time. But it makes you think."

"Think about what?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. Myself? Am I so hard to love? And then all the what ifs come to mind. What if I never married her? What if I never even met her?" He remained silent for a while, looking around again, "When I left her I started working as a journalist for Robert. He knew I was having a hard time, because she couldn't leave me alone, she wouldn't let me live my life and she was doing everything she could to prevent the divorce. It was Rob's idea to do those trips."

"Was he running away as well?"

"Robert? No, he has the perfect family, or rather he had." He swallowed deeply, when Robert lost his daughter and his son-in-law it had hit John hard as well. "He did it for me." He reflected on his bond with Robert, "He's one of the good guys."

"The good guys?"

"Yeah, he'd do anything, so would I, but I'm not one of the good guys."

"Why not?"

"I'm just not."

He remained silent for a while, letting everything sink in for a moment.

She looked at her watch and she knew she had to end their session, even though she would rather continue. They had hit something, but it wouldn't be good for him to delve deeper into his past during his first session. It was more important to make him feel comfortable, and that's why she needed to end it now.

"I'm afraid our hour is over, John."

His eyes wandered to the clock and he nodded, acknowledging her words. He stood up with the help of his cane and he had to grit his teeth against the pain shooting through his knee.

"Are you all right, John?"

There it was – the pity. Every time people saw him he could see pity in their eyes, but he didn't want it. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to remain calm as he turned his head to look into her eyes. But all he could see was genuine concern, there was no pity in her eyes and he felt relieved, maybe this won't be as hard as he thought.

He gave her a weak smile, "I can manage."

"Of course you can."

Their gazes remained locked for a few moments longer until she broke the silence.

"Will I see you again next week?"

"You got me this far, Miss Smith." He stretched out his hand towards her, "I'll see you next week."

She took his hand in hers and gave him a soft smile, "Until then, Mr Bates."

He was the last patient of the day and she was relieved, it gave her more time to think it all through. The first session between a therapist and a patient was always some sort of test, to see if they could get along and she was glad he told her he'd come back. She replayed their conversation in her mind, looking over the notes she had made whilst he had been talking. She had to admit, she was intrigued. He was a mysterious figure, but there was kindness in him. She had seen it, if only for a few seconds. Somehow she knew she could bring it back to him. There was something in his smile and the way he looked at her that made her believe they could get through this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for the reviews, the follows and the favourites! I really didn't expect so many. I know there are a lot of complications with the situation I placed John and Anna in, but I hope you stick with me. Please let me know what you think of this one. I didn't mention this earlier, but I plan on updating this story every week. I have a few chapters written, so I think I can keep my promise.**

**Pussycatwithattitude**,** you're the best and I can't thank you enough. :)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.**

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"How was your week, John?"

"All right, I guess."

She remained silent and he already knew this was her way of telling him she needed him to say more than just that. He had been coming here for a month now and if he were honest with himself, things were improving, if only a little. But other things had happened during their sessions that left him more confused than ever.

"I got through the week without too many problems."

"Without too many? So there were a few?"

He sighed, every word he said was turned inside out until she found something. "How can there not be?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ever since it happened, there have been moments where I just…" He paused, trying to find the right words, "It's just… There are times when everything comes back and it overwhelms me so much that I just can't go on." He gave her a weak smile, "I know I don't make much sense, but I don't know how to explain it."

"This happened to you last week?"

He nodded, but remained silent.

"Can you tell me about one of those moments?"

His gaze drifted to the window, "The other day I was walking down the street when suddenly everything came back, I was back there where it all..." He shook his head, "It came out of nowhere and I felt like I couldn't move. My knee was killing me and everything around me just stopped. Thinking back now it's not that strange that it happened then."

"How so?"

His eyes found hers again, a feeling of comfort washing over him, "It was William's birthday."

She saw sadness crossing his features and she realised it was up to her to pull him out of these feelings, "What would you have done if he were here?"

"You mean if he was alive and we could celebrate his birthday?"

Anna nodded and she was glad to see a small smile appear on his lips.

"We would have gone to the pub to celebrate properly. Well, not exactly one pub, we would have done some sort of pub crawl. I would have been the one to help him home, he never really could stand alcohol, but he kept trying." A distant look came to his eyes as if he could see everything clearly played out before him.

"Would you like to tell me more about William?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Why?"

"It doesn't help to keep it all inside."

His gaze left hers again, contemplating whether or not he would share anything.

"I'm only here to help, John."

He slowly turned his head back, something about her voice reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

"He was a very nice young lad and everyone liked him. Another colleague gave him a hard time at work sometimes, but everyone stood up for William. We worked together ever since he came to work for Robert, we were a team. Always out together, he took the photographs and I wrote the articles. It clicked."

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back, something in his kind eyes drawing her in.

It was only a small smile, but his heart started beating just a little bit faster. He didn't know what it was, she had smiled at him many times before, but there was something different this time.

To be honest, this wasn't the first time he felt it. Only the other week when she shook his hand he had felt the same thrill going through his body – the warmth of her hand in his leaving him breathless for a moment. Even as a writer, he just couldn't describe it. During their first session he felt a connection, something that made him believe she could really help him, but ever since there had been moments where he was certain that something else was happening as well.

He lost himself in her eyes for a moment, but she didn't seem to notice because her eyes refused to move from his.

A strange sensation flowed through her as his eyes locked with hers, something she had never felt before. It was the first time today, but she had to admit that this wasn't the first time she felt it. There was something about him that left her confused every time their eyes met or his hand came to envelop hers at the end of their session.

He forced himself to snap out of it and he reluctantly turned his head to the window beside him. He didn't know what had just happened, but he was certain she had felt it too.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She regarded his profile for a moment, and she knew he had felt something too. But what had she felt exactly?

He wouldn't say anything, this was something that he couldn't describe and he needed to let it go. It only lasted a few seconds this time and he knew it couldn't mean anything.

"He was engaged..."

His voice brought her back and she was glad he continued where he had stopped.

They couldn't say anything, could they? She had only felt the connection for a brief moment, but it was something she had never experienced before. But he was her patient and she his therapist. This - whatever it was - couldn't mean anything to her. She couldn't allow that to happen.

"A girl from work, Daisy. He fell for her the moment he met her, but she didn't at first." He shook his head smiling, "The day he proposed to her and she said yes, we went out celebrating with a few friends from work. Only a few days later we left and I returned alone."

A new sensation washed over him and she recognised guilt, she had seen it a few times with her patients, but there had always been a good reason, she couldn't understand why John had it written all over him. "Why do you feel guilty?"

His eyes widened for a moment, he had never spoken about the guilt he felt to anyone and she just saw it. What was it about her that made her see him?

He stammered, not knowing how to react and she realised in that moment he had never spoken about it to anyone before. "Am I the first to ask you?"

His silence spoke volumes and she just watched him, his body language telling her all she needed to know. He clasped his hands nervously, leant forward and avoided looking at her. How could she read him?

"You don't have to tell me now, John."

Her words had the effect she expected, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back and she could almost hear him breathe a sigh of relief. She knew instantly that there was more to his story than she had read in the newspapers.

"Just know that you can always tell me."

He looked down at his hands, his voice almost silent, "He just... He didn't deserve to die."

"No one deserves to die."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "That's what we're supposed to say, isn't it?"

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"No, tell me." She could feel she needed to push him a little.

His eyes locked with her eyes, a slight tone of frustration in his voice, "Don't you understand? William had his whole life ahead of him, he was about to get married to the girl he loved and I was just..."

He remained silent and she could see he was struggling with himself, but she wouldn't push him anymore. If he wanted to say something, he would.

Tears formed in his eyes when he finally looked back up at her, "It should have been me instead of him."

His words hit something inside her, how could he think like that?

"You shouldn't be talking like that."

"I can't help it. My life is nothing, while he could have had so much more."

"Don't say that, John. He wouldn't want you to think that way."

"How would you know? You weren't even there." A first tear streamed down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but his eyes never left hers, "You weren't there."

They were silent for a few moments, but their eyes remained locked. He had never shown this vulnerable to her before and in a way she knew they had taken one step forward again.

She tentatively tried to repair their bond, "I know, John. I wasn't there. But what I do know is that if you keep thinking that way, you'll drive yourself mad and that's not how I want you to leave here. I know our hour is almost over, but I can't let you go thinking as you do now, do you understand?"

He nodded and her words overwhelmed him a bit. Ever since it happened he had been alone and for the first time he felt like there was someone who wanted more for him. He gave her a sad smile, "I don't deserve your kindness."

She smiled back and he felt it again, that feeling that went right through to his heart. It thrilled him, but scared him at the same time. This was something new to him, but on any moral ground it was wrong. She was his therapist.

Oblivious to his mind, she continued, "That's where I don't agree with you. It's not a question of whether you deserve it or not, it's whether you accept it or not. I'm only offering."

His smile grew as he looked at her and she mirrored his smile,

"What is it, John?"

He shook his head, his smile never fading, "You're quite special, Miss Smith."

His compliment made her blush and he enjoyed seeing the effect spread over her features. He knew he shouldn't say those things, but he couldn't help it.

She didn't reply at first and he regretted saying it, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that."

"It's all right, John." _More than all right_, she thought.

A silence hung between them as she regarded him. The compliment he had given her, the sincerity shining through in his eyes, how could just a few words from him send such a thrill through her body?

She tried her best to focus back on the reason they were here together, "People care for you too, John, just don't forget that."

He nodded, and something inside him started fighting against the feelings she bestowed upon him. This just couldn't be.

Realising he wouldn't say much more, she decided to break up their session. It was enough for today and somehow she felt like she needed some time for herself as well. "Will you be all right, if I let you go now?"

"I will, thank you." He smiled again, but his eyes had left hers.

She stood up as he did too, "I'll see you next week?"

He turned around and stretched out his hand as had become habit, "Of course."

The moment she took his hand in hers and looked up in his eyes, she felt it again. Something was happening between them, but she knew it was wrong. She tried to compose herself and offered him a smile, muttering a soft goodbye as he left.

She closed the door behind him and heaved a deep sigh, she recognised the feeling, but she couldn't allow this to happen.

He had been coming for a month now and every time there had been something. Small things like their eyes lingering over each other, a silence hanging between them that said more than words could, his smile resulting in a smile of her own. She knew in her mind that it couldn't be, but her heart kept her doubting.

Ever since she had opened her practice she had had no problems keeping her life private, never telling anything to patients, but when John Bates sits down on her sofa she needs to stop herself from telling him everything. Thinking about it he wasn't just another patient to her any longer, but she knew she couldn't go that way.

What could she do?

Would it be better if she told him she couldn't treat him anymore?

Or could she go on and pretend nothing was happening?

She knew she could help him, there was some sort of an understanding between them and that was a really important element in the relationship between a therapist and a patient. But could she see him as just another patient?


	3. Chapter 3

**Apparently I've broken my promise already, I simply forgot to update this story, even though pussycatwithattitude gave me the chapter back last week (for which I will never stop thanking you.) Blame it on the exams, my mind was elsewhere.**

**Anyway, thank you all very much for the reviews, the favourites and the follows, they mean the world to me. Hope you like this one.**

**Disclaimer: The usual**

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He was late. He was never late and it worried her. She paced her office nervously and kept looking at the clock. Half an hour had passed without so much as a sign of him. He had her number, so if anything had happened he would have called her. She could only hope he hadn't given up, they had made a lot of progress and this would ruin everything.

A knock on the door startled her and she breathed a sigh of relief, but she wasn't prepared for the image that he presented her. His hair was dishevelled as if he had kept running his hand through it, his eyes were red, and he wasn't wearing his coat even though it was freezing outside. He looked pale and his lips were already a bit blue from the cold. When he walked through to her sofa, she noticed he was limping more than usual.

"John, what happened? Why are you so late?" She tried hard to keep the worry out of her tone, but it was of no use.

He sat down, wincing as he rubbed his knee and she noticed he was shaking. She didn't care anymore if it was appropriate or not as she sat down next to him and placed her hand on top of his, trying to get some reaction from him. "John, you're like ice. Can I get you anything? Would you like some tea?"

He pulled away from her, "No, I'm fine."

"You're obviously not. Tell me what's wrong, John."

He moved over to the other end of the sofa, trying to put as much distance between them as possible and she mirrored his actions, realising what he was doing. He leaned forward and turned his head to look at her, locking their eyes as they had done so often. It was getting harder every time he was here, but he couldn't stay away. The only thing he could do was keep some sort of a physical distance, not wanting to do something he might regret. He felt cold, but being in her presence warmed him inside and he scolded himself for feeling that way. Ever since that first moment, that connection, his feelings had only grown and he found himself counting the days until he could go back to her.

She couldn't tear her eyes away, but she knew they needed to say something. He hadn't stopped shaking since he came in and she needed to find some way to have him accept her help. Her voice was soft as she spoke, "How long have you been out, John?"

He broke their gaze and looked down at his hands, trying to stop them from shaking, "A few hours."

Her eyes widened, something terrible must have happened otherwise he wouldn't do such a thing. She would get it out of him, but first she wanted to try and warm him up. She had a fireplace in her living room, so she could easily take him there and place him in front of the fire. She had never taken a patient into her private quarters, but this was John, what harm would it do?

She stood up and looked down as his eyes wandered over her features, "Get up."

Confusion was evident on his face, "What? Why?"

"I need to get you in front of a fire, John. You're shaking, your lips are blue and I'm freezing just from sitting next to you." She offered him a small smile, hoping to comfort him in some way, "Follow me, John."

As he noticed her walking to the door that separated her private house from her practice, he stopped her, "Wait, Anna. I can't."

She frowned, "John, you have to, you need to warm up."

"But that's your home, and I'm your patient." His last words came out in whisper and even though he hated saying it, they both knew it was the truth.

They remained silent for a while, staring at each other, but she had already made up her mind. "I know, John." _Although I wish things were different_, she thought. "But I'm not going to send you out in the cold again before you're completely warmed up. We're still going to have our session, but we're just going to change the setting. You're my last patient of the day anyway, now follow me."

She smiled, but he knew from her tone she wouldn't take no for an answer. He got up, wincing as his knee protested, and he followed her through the hallway to the living room. He couldn't help but look around as he walked through the house she called home, it was just how he had imagined it and he immediately felt warmth spreading through him, a stark contrast to the cold around him.

She guided him to the living room, "I'll just light the fire and then I'm going to get us some tea."

Instead of sitting down he took a few steps towards her, "At least let me make a fire. I already feel like I'm imposing."

She shook her head, "John, I asked you here. Make yourself comfortable."

He didn't move, only holding out his hand to take over the matches, a small smile gracing his features.

With a sigh she relented and placed the matches in his hand, a thrill going through her body as his fingertips brushed her palm. Her eyes shot up to his, only to be met by a soft, grateful smile. It was only a few seconds, but enough to give her that familiar feeling.

She tried to compose herself as he turned and bent down to make a fire, "I'll get us some tea."

Once in the kitchen she started second-guessing herself, one part of her mind working against the other. She had invited a patient into her home, and that was something she had never done before. But this wasn't just any patient. This was John. She chanced a look over her shoulder, the door to the living room was open and she could see him sitting in the armchair closest to the fire, his hand going through his hair as his other rubbed his knee. His face contorted in pain as he heaved a heavy sigh, he dropped his face in his hands and in that moment she knew she had made the right decision. Something must have happened for him to get in such a state. By now she knew him, she knew his ways and she knew he wasn't one to surrender to his problems. He was strong and he would rather deal with everything on his own than burden other people. There's a reason for this and she felt like she could be the one to help him get out of this and somehow she knew he would let her.

The whistle of the kettle brought her out of her reverie and she quickly arranged a tray with two cups and some biscuits.

He smiled when she entered and she returned it, willing her heart to slow down as she handed him his cup and their fingers brushed again.

"You look better already." She took the other armchair and dragged it over to the other side of the fireplace so she could sit opposite him.

When she turned around she could see his smile widening and she felt a tingle inside her as his smile reached his eyes. "Thank you for this, Anna. I know I'm invading your privacy, please know that it wasn't my intention."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "John, how many times do I have to tell you? You're here because I want you to be."

They drank their tea in silence and she was glad to see the paleness draining from his face. Again she waited for him, he needed to be ready and she wouldn't push him, knowing it had the opposite effect.

He turned away from the fire and placed his cup on the tray, looking up at her with a weak smile, "I must seem like a mad man to you."

She smiled at his words, "I don't judge you, John. All I know is that there must be a reason for this."

His eyes left hers again, looking at some point beyond her, "I was over at my mum's for lunch today."

He changed the subject, but she would follow him. Somehow she knew he would come to what brought him here in this state. "How was she?"

"Good, thank you." He offered her a small smile, "She said she enjoyed seeing me smile more often."

"That's a good thing, John."

"That's what she said. It's since I've come here to talk to you, at least that's what she assumed."

"And what do you think?"

His eyes locked with hers again, "I believe she might be right."

She smiled, "Might be?"

The playful tone in her voice brought an easy smile to his face, "All right, Miss Smith. My mum's right, it has been easier since I first came here."

Her smile remained plastered on her lips as she registered his words, she had a feeling that things were getting better for him, but to hear him confirm those thoughts meant a lot to her. He remained silent again and she could see his eyes wandering to the fire next to them again. Their conversation had stopped and she knew she had to push him - if only a little - to share more.

She tentatively tried to broach the subject, "Will you tell me what happened when you left your mum's?"

He didn't move his gaze from the fire as he spoke, but he closed his eyes, letting every second pass before him, "I went home, but decided to stop by the local shop because I needed a few things. It's just around the corner, not too far from here. When I walked in, I didn't pay too much attention to the other people there. I never do to be honest. But there was one voice I recognised…" He tried very hard to keep his emotions under control, but he could feel the tears forming behind his eyes. "I never realised that Ivy, the girl behind the counter, was best friends with Daisy." He opened his eyes again and turned his head to look in her eyes, willing his voice not to break, "William's fiancée."

Their eyes were locked and she could see the pain hidden beneath his, showing her how much it had affected him. She felt for him, she wanted to hold him and soothe him, but the therapist in her kept her firmly in her seat. "What did you do?"

He sighed and leaned back, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Something I shouldn't have."

She frowned, "And that is?"

"Daisy came towards me and I just turned around and left the shop." He looked up in her eyes, "I know it was wrong, but I just couldn't stop myself from running away."

"Why did you run?"

"I haven't talked to her since I returned." Tears were threatening to escape him, but he forced himself to stay strong, "She only knows what they said in the newspapers, not the real story, but the thought of telling her exactly what happened… frightens me."

"Why, John?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Not to me." She placed her cup on the tray, knowing that it was the guilt that frightened him and Daisy's reaction. She knew she couldn't talk around it. "Daisy wouldn't judge you, John, you're not to blame. If there was anyone she could blame, it would be the people who placed those bombs on your road, the ones who shot you when you were defenceless. This was not something you could have foreseen."

"But I was the one who survived, Anna, while it should have been William."

"We talked about this before, John. You have to stop thinking like that, it won't bring him back." She hated how cruel her words sounded, but she knew she needed to get through to him.

He shook his head, his mind blocking her words as the guilt wouldn't leave him. His voice was barely above a whisper, strained by emotions, "Seeing Daisy in the shop brought everything back. I went home, but I couldn't forget her. She had smiled when she saw me and that hurt even more, I didn't deserve that. She lost William, while I'm still here, walking the streets, doing mundane things like going to a shop. Their life was just about to begin, but they snatched it away. They never had a chance to do those things together. They never had a home together." The first tears streamed down his cheeks and he didn't even try to stop them anymore, "I went home, but as soon as I entered I felt out of place, like I was walking in a stranger's home. I felt like I was the one who had taken it all away from them, a place they should have shared, a place they should have called home."

She watched him breaking down in front of her and it took everything she had to stop herself from going to him and wrap her arms around him, the need to comfort him nearly overshadowing the fact that she was his therapist. They had never talked about this before, he had never told her what had happened exactly and she had never asked, knowing that one day they would get there. His guilt had been a constant presence and she had tried to get him to see that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have done anything to prevent what had happened, but up until now he had ignored all her attempts.

"John, please listen to me." The weakness of her own voice surprised her, but she tried to compose herself, "I know you feel like you don't deserve to live the life you have, I know guilt consumes you and refuses to let you sleep at night. What happened to you is something you wouldn't wish on any man, but it did happen and you need to accept that you deserve to live after that. I know it's not easy and it will be hard for you, especially with those daily reminders, but you deserve to live, John." Her eyes were locked with his, the tears in his bringing tears to her own, a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking with a clear voice, but she never lost eye contact with him, making sure he heard every word she said. "If not for you, then for William. Live for him, John."

He leaned forward and dropped his head in his hands, his body shaking from the emotions. This was the first time he allowed himself to break down after it happened. He had never given in before, and everything came out - his body tired of keeping it all in. His eyes searched hers again and he was surprised to see tears streaming down her cheeks, no one had ever cared that much about him. He felt overwhelmed by the emotions she awakened inside him, things he had never felt before, only growing stronger with every session that passed, every word she spoke to him. She always knew what to say, always the right thing to help him get through it.

"Thank you."

His voice sounded hoarse, but those two words were enough to tell her that he understood and she could only smile at him, wiping away her tears as she waited for him to recover as well.

He leaned back and sighed, "I need to talk to Daisy."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. She deserves to know what happened to William."

"But are you ready to tell her?"

Again his eyes focused on hers, he always did that when he wanted to tell her something important, "I don't know, but I can't keep postponing what I know needs to happen."

She nodded, "Do you want to talk about it now?"

He shook his head, "I can't, not now."

His voice sounded almost pleading, "Don't worry, I understand."

"I know we haven't talked about it yet."

"Whenever it feels right for you, John."

"Be there with me." He blurted it out without thinking and he didn't know where it came from. All he knew was that being around her comforted him – he didn't feel as alone when he was with her.

His words surprised her, "What?"

"As my therapist you should know too." He couldn't tell her exactly why he wanted her there with him.

"I know, but…" He was right and she knew that her presence could help comfort him.

"It's all right, I shouldn't have asked you."

"No, John…" There was something new in his eyes, hope. He looked hopeful and she couldn't find it in her to squash his hopes. "If you want me to be there, I'll be there."

"You don't have to, I'm sorry I mentioned it."

"John, I want to be there for you."

He could see nothing but sincerity in her eyes and it made his heart ache for her, "Are you sure?"

She smiled, "I am."

They kept their gazes locked for a while longer and she realised it wasn't just a question of wanting to be there, she _needed_ to be there. He meant so much more to her and she couldn't leave him alone in this.

"Do you want to meet here?"

A pensive look crossed his features, "Would you mind terribly if it was at my place?"

She shook her head, "Wherever you feel most comfortable."

"Thank you." He offered her a weak smile, "When are you available?"

"I'll have a look." She got up and took her agenda, flipping through the pages until she found a free moment. "I'm actually free tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow? Already?"

She looked up at him, "Is that too soon for you?"

"No, it's all right."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You are sure you want to do this?"

"I am." The more he thought of it, the more he convinced himself that this was the right thing to do.

"I need to call Daisy and see if she's free as well."

"Why don't you call her now?"

He nodded, "Yes, I can do that."

She stood up and took the tray with their cups, "I'll take this to the kitchen and give you some privacy." He nodded again, but he didn't move, seemingly lost in his thoughts, "Will you be all right, John?"

He snapped out of his mind to look at her, "I will, thank you."

With one last smile she went to the kitchen and started washing their cups. She had a dishwasher, but she needed to give him some time and there was nothing else she could do. It had been a hard day for him emotionally and this session had drained him completely. Never in her whole career had she experienced something so intense, and she knew there was only one reason for this. She wasn't afraid to admit it anymore, and she wouldn't fight her feelings any longer, but she couldn't show them. Her tears earlier had been genuine, everything he told her, the pain he felt, were intensified by her feelings for him. It had surprised her somewhat, but when she saw him so defeated, so lost, she couldn't stop her tears from falling. She knew he felt something as well, but they just couldn't be and there was nothing she could do about it. She would put her feelings aside and help him professionally, because he still needed her in that way. She wouldn't allow herself to think any further than that.

"Can I help?"

His voice startled her and she turned around quickly to see him standing in the doorway.

He stepped a bit closer, a soft smile gracing his features, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's all right." She couldn't help but mirror his smile, "Everything settled?"

A sigh escaped his lips, "It is. She thanked me, but I just hope she doesn't regret it."

"She won't, John, you're doing the right thing and I'll be there to help you through it."

He looked at her intently, "You really are sure about this?"

"I am, John, so stop asking me."

They shared a smile, their gazes fixed on each other again. Only now noticing they were standing rather close to each other, she could feel her heartbeat quickening as he seemed to lean in closer. Or was she just hoping he was? She licked her lips unconsciously and it made him snap out of his daze.

He shook his head, trying to put some sense in his mind as he stepped back, "I'd better go."

She nodded, not able to form words as her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

"Thank you for tonight, Anna. This means a lot to me." He cleared his throat, realising his voice sounded weak, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Just when he was about to walk out of the kitchen she found her voice again, "We never settled on a time."

He turned back to her, "You're right, I'm sorry I'm still a bit…"

"I understand, don't worry." She offered him a small smile, hoping he could find some comfort in it.

"When is Daisy coming?"

"At eight."

"Do you want me to come earlier? Because I can if you want me to."

He smiled, the one that made his eyes crinkle, sending a familiar thrill through her body.

"I'd like that."

"I'll be there at seven."

Her smile made his heart skip a beat, but he forced himself to suppress the desire to take her in his arms. "Thank you, Anna."

With a slight smile he left her, the sound of the door closing leaving her alone with a feeling of emptiness.


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been inexcusably long and I'm terribly sorry. I hope some people are still interested in this story and if you are, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you very much for the follows, favourites and all the reviews, they gave me a few ideas and I changed the story a bit, hopefully for the better. Please let me know what you think of this one. The next update shouldn't take as long.**

**As always, thank you pussycatwithattitude, you're the best.**

**Disclaimer: Still the same**

* * *

John had just left her house and she knew she needed to talk to someone. She had been putting it off for far too long, but the feeling of emptiness she felt after he left alarmed her, this was getting way out of hand. There was only one person she could go to with her problems. She picked up her bag, put on her coat and walked out to the house she had known so well when she was just a young girl.

She felt nervous when she stood in front of the house, and all the memories came back from the times she came here after losing her mother. She pushed the doorbell and it didn't take more than five seconds for the door to swing open, revealing a surprised woman she had grown so fond of.

"Anna, you're a sight for sore eyes. Come in!" She gestured for Anna to come in and she did so gladly.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this time, Mrs Hughes but I really needed to talk to you."

She looked at Anna with concern in her eyes and she understood the meaning of her words immediately. "You can bother us any time dear, please come through."

Anna followed her through the hallway, but stopped her as she turned to the living room, "Mrs Hughes," she paused to correct herself, she never really got used to calling her by her first name, "Elsie, I know you stopped with your practice years ago, but could you give me some advice?"

The older woman smiled kindly, "Of course, my dear, follow me."

They walked past the living room, where Anna quickly greeted Charles, Elsie's husband, before they went to her old office. Anna looked around to take in her surroundings, it hadn't changed a bit since her sessions with Mrs Hughes all those years ago. After her mum's death, she had closed off to the world, not knowing what to do with herself or how to live in a world where her mother wasn't a constant presence. That was until her father took her to see Mrs Hughes, a therapist who had her own practice a few streets from their house and focused on children with difficulties. She had helped Anna come to terms with the loss of her mother, making sure Anna would find her way in the world as a young teenager without the guidance of a mother. Now Mrs Hughes was retired, but Anna still visited her frequently.

"Now, what do you want to talk to me about?"

Anna sat down across from her, and prepared herself for what she was about to say. Mrs Hughes had been a therapist herself and she knew the bond between a patient and a therapist better than anyone. When Anna came here as a young girl she had grown to admire what Mrs Hughes did and how she helped people. Anna's mum had always wanted her to go to university and not waste her time in her dad's old bookshop, because that was where her true heart was. But when her mum died, she felt like she needed to honour her in some way and that's when she went to university to become a therapist. She had long left Mrs Hughes' practice as a patient by then and she was able to appeal to Mrs Hughes' knowledge. She had her own practice thanks to the woman before her.

"It's about a patient."

She narrowed her eyes at Anna, "I see."

Anna felt nervous under her watchful gaze, she looked down at her hands, not knowing where to begin. "He's been coming for a few months now and there's just something about him." She tried hard to keep her emotions in check, "You know him." She looked up in her eyes, "John Bates."

Mrs Hughes frowned, the name ringing a bell vaguely, "Is he that journalist who got injured abroad during an attack?"

"Yes, that's him. All we know is what was in the newspapers, and they were pretty vague about it, saying he was there for an article and he got attacked when they were crossing the border, meaning his colleague died."

"But that's not everything?"

"I don't believe it is, there's more to his story. I just know there is. For some reason he feels guilty about the death of his colleague, but from what he tells me, William wasn't just a colleague, more like a friend."

"You're worried about him?"

"I don't know, maybe I am." She sighed, "I just don't know anymore."

"Anna, what are you trying to tell me?"

She hesitated, she had come this far and she knew she had to tell someone. She didn't want to lose him, but she needed advice on how to go on. "I've done something, but I don't feel like I did the wrong thing and in a way I know that's wrong."

"What happened?"

With a deep sigh she continued, "He was late today for our session, which is unusual for him, because he never is. He's always early, so I began to worry. When he finally arrived, half an hour late, he was all messed up and I instantly knew something bad had happened. He had been walking out in the cold for hours and he was freezing, so I felt like I needed to do something to help him."

Mrs Hughes grew concerned, she had never seen Anna like this, and she feared the answer, "What did you do?"

She looked up in her eyes, "I invited him into my living room to help him warm up in front of the fire."

A gasp escaped her, "But Anna he's your patient."

"I know and I shouldn't have done that, but I know him. He would never use anything against me, he's not like that." She lowered her voice a bit, sensing that emotions would soon get the better of her if she didn't, "I know him, Mrs Hughes."

This was dangerous territory for her, but she also knew that Anna would never do anything like this, if she didn't have a good reason. She sighed, but kept her kind eyes focussed on Anna, "Will you tell me what's really going on?"

When she looked back up in her eyes, she could see nothing but kindness and Anna knew that if there was one person she could trust, it was Mrs Hughes. "I feel a connection between us. I know it's wrong and on any moral ground, this can't happen. I've tried hard to ignore it, but I can't help it. When he shakes my hand I feel a tingle going through my body, when he smiles, a natural smile forms on my lips, when he's having a difficult time, I feel his pain. It's there and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Have you done anything to encourage him?"

"Of course not, I can't."

By the way Anna denied it, Mrs Hughes knew she told the truth. She knew Anna would never let anything happen as long as he was her patient, "But you believe he feels the same."

"I know he does."

"How can you be so certain?"

"It's just..." She hesitated, feeling a bit silly, "No man has ever looked at me the way he does."

Mrs Hughes' eyes widened, "Oh dear."

She felt tears coming up, but she tried to push them back, "I just don't know what to do. I know I can help him, he trusts me and I can get him to open up like no else can. He's made a lot of progress since our first session, he told me so himself earlier. But there's more."

"What do you mean?"

"We had a breakthrough today, he finally accepted that he's not guilty for his friend's death. It's the first time I got through to him today and he accepted what I said. He was completely drained after our session, you know how these things can be, but he felt like he needed to do more. He wants to tell William's fiancée what really happened and he asked if I could be there when he tells her."

"I can understand why he wants you to be there. You agreed?"

She nodded, "I did. It's tomorrow in his home."

Mrs Hughes remained silent, thinking over Anna's situation.

"What should I do? Should I tell him I can't treat him anymore and refer him to a colleague? Or should I just keep helping him?"

"Anna, my dear." She stood up and went over to sit beside her, taking her hand in hers, "You obviously have a special bond with him and from what I hear you know how to handle him and help him get through this."

"So I should continue?"

"Do you think he will need you for much longer?"

"It's going really well, I don't think so."

"Then I suggest you keep treating him, but whatever you do, you must know that this can't go anywhere. Even if he's no longer your patient, he will always be linked to you and it might jeopardise what you have now. This will have to pass."

She sighed, somehow she knew this wouldn't pass so easily, but Mrs Hughes was right. "I know and it will. Thank you."

"Come back tomorrow after you've seen him, we'll talk some more."

"I will, thank you so much for listening to me."

* * *

He hadn't slept a wink, but not because of the conversation he was about to have with Daisy. It was because of _her. _She had invaded his mind shortly after their first session, but their connection had been so strong from the beginning. He was sure she felt something too, even though there was nothing they could do about it. Every conversation with her had brought more life in him and he had allowed himself to feel again, she had warmed his heart.

She had cried with him only the day before, inviting him in her home, exposing her privacy and she would be here for him today. He tried not to think too much of it, telling himself she would do that for every patient, but there was something in the way she looked at him that made him believe there was more. Or was he only hoping to see more?

His doorbell took him out of his thoughts and he took a deep breath before he opened the door, trying to shake his feelings from him. She gave him a shy smile and his heart skipped a beat, the sight of her already easing his mind for what he was about to share. Her scent invaded his senses as she walked past him and it took him a moment before his legs finally started following her through his home.

The minute they sat down in his kitchen her eyes were on him, trying to see how he was coping. He looked tired and she guessed he hadn't slept at all, "How are you, John?"

"Better than I expected." He gave her a faint smile, "We'll see how it goes."

"Does Daisy know I'm here?"

He nodded, "She called me this morning, asking if I still wanted to do this and I told her about you."

"If at any moment you want me to leave, just tell me and I'll go."

"I don't think that will be necessary."

She smiled, glad to see he hadn't changed his mind about anything over night. After her conversation with Mrs Hughes she had tried to put him out of her mind, but the whole day through she had been thinking about him. Somehow she just couldn't stop thinking about him, she found herself listening to other patients and her mind would drift to him, wondering what he was doing. She knew it was wrong, but wasn't this how you're supposed to feel when you lost your heart to someone? He was out of her reach and he would remain to be, but she couldn't keep her feelings at bay.

He looked at her intently, realising that on a Friday night she might have better things to do than sit here with him. Even though she had told him several times the night before she wanted to be here, he felt like he should offer it at least one more time, "Of course if you want to go, you can."

"John." Her voice was stern and he couldn't help but smile at her tone, "Stop saying those things, I almost feel like you don't want me to be here."

_How wrong can you be_, he thought. "I'm sorry." He offered her an apologetic smile, "Do you want some tea?"

"I'd love a cup."

They shared a smile and she followed him with her eyes as he set about making them some. He wasn't using his cane inside and she noticed him gritting his teeth a few times as he leaned on his bad knee. She couldn't help but wonder why he would be so stubborn as to not use his cane when he was at home.

He turned around to see a frown on her face, "Is something the matter?"

She looked up at him, shaking her head, "Of course not." She smiled in gratitude as he handed her a cup, but he wouldn't let it go.

"Anna." He used the same stern tone like she did when she talked to him and she felt herself blushing, "If there's something wrong please just tell me."

"There's nothing wrong, John."

He sat down in front of her with his own cup and looked at her intently as she fumbled with hers. His voice was soft as he spoke, not wanting to force her to anything, "Then what is it?"

She looked up in his eyes, the kind smile on his lips making her heart flutter, "I was just wondering..." She hesitated a while, not wanting to offend him.

He found her hesitation adorable and his smile widened unconsciously, "You were wondering?"

She stared back down in her cup when she spoke, "I was wondering why you weren't using your cane at home when your knee is obviously causing you pain."

He wasn't expecting that, "I see."

"I'm sorry, John, I shouldn't have asked that." She instantly regretted saying anything at all.

He waited until she looked back up in his eyes, before he spoke. To be honest he didn't even mind her asking, she knew more about him than anyone ever did and it didn't bother him, not anymore.

Her eyes finally moved back up to his and she was surprised to see a small smile on his lips.

"I don't mind you asking, Anna." It made him realise she had watched him very closely, else she wouldn't have noticed that at all and it made a spark of hope going through him.

"I didn't want to offend you."

He smiled, "You haven't."

She mirrored his smile, feeling the familiar thrill going through her body as she noticed the crinkles around his eyes.

He held her gaze a while longer, before he spoke up. "I don't want Daisy to see me walking with a cane."

"Why not?"

"Because she'd see me as a victim."

His words came out in a whisper, but their eyes remained locked when he spoke. Sharing his thoughts with her wasn't as strange anymore as it first was in the beginning of their sessions. It became the most natural thing, because he felt like she understood him.

She knew how he felt by the way he spoke. If he was whispering, she knew it had taken a lot from him to say those words. He was a private man, but when he was with her he had no trouble sharing things, at least not anymore.

"But she saw you in the shop yesterday?"

He avoided her eyes for a moment, "I know, but that was only a few seconds." Her eyes drew him back in, "People see me as that journalist who got injured, a cripple and all I can see in their eyes is pity."

She was about to protest, but he stopped her,

"They do, Anna. There are only some who don't." He looked straight in her eyes, hoping she understood the words that remained unspoken. _You're different._

And she did understand. The first time she heard his voice on the telephone to arrange an appointment, she knew who he was, what he'd been through, but never had she pitied him. She admired him, because for all he'd been through, all he'd suffered, he came out stronger, even if he didn't know it for himself. She never knew a better man, even though she shouldn't be thinking that way.

"I believe she will see you for who you are, John, and that is not the cripple you consider yourself to be. She won't pity you for what you've been through."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she felt the weight of losing someone as strongly as you felt it. She will see you as William's friend and she won't look down on you for having to use a cane." She paused, letting her words sink in, before she continued, "Your cane is not a symbol of your weakness, John." Her eyes searched his, wanting his full attention before she uttered her next words, "It's a symbol of your strength."

He remained silent, absorbing her words, their eyes still locked. She always knew exactly what to say, she always found a way to bring him out of his shell and have his heart sigh with relief, another piece of his stoic mask crumbling down in her presence and only in her presence. He never allowed anyone to see him as vulnerable as he was with her, she could read him, she knew him and she didn't turn away from him. His heart ached for her to be a constant presence in his life, by his side as a companion, a friend, a lover. He needed her constantly. When he wasn't with her, he felt incomplete, even though she was constantly in his mind and heart. This was something he hadn't counted on and the strength of his feelings scared him, because this just couldn't go anywhere.

She saw her words sinking in and she knew he accepted them. His eyes were glazy through the tears he was forcing back and the more she looked in them, the more she felt like her heart would burst under the pressure of keeping her feelings to herself. It was getting harder every time, her feelings only growing when he told her a little more about himself. He had come to her for help, but the more time she spent trying to heal him, the more she had to force herself to suppress her own desire. This couldn't go anywhere and she knew she needed to end this at some point, but the thought of never seeing him again was enough to break her.

The sound of the doorbell breaking the comfortable silence between them made them both jump.

They shared a smile before John got up and limped to the door. She could hear him greeting Daisy and she got up as well, walking to the hallway to see the young woman. John introduced them, before he led them to the living room. A small smile formed on her lips as she noticed John had taken his cane back. Just in that moment he turned around and caught her gaze, their eyes met for a brief moment and he gave her one of his half-smiles. Her heart started beating just that little bit faster, before he broke their gaze to sit down next to Daisy on the sofa. Anna sat in the armchair next to her, so she could make eye contact with John without him having to turn around towards her. She could feel that he might need it. She caught his gaze over Daisy's shoulder and she could see nothing but gratitude in his eyes.

He focused his attention back on Daisy, "Would you like something to drink?"

She shook her head, "I'm good, thanks."

John was struggling to find his next words and Anna wanted to say something to help him get started, but she knew it would do no good. Instead she watched them, noticing Daisy was finding this hard as well, until she reached out for John's hand.

He slowly looked up in Daisy's eyes and gave her hand a soft squeeze. They shared a smile and it gave him the encouragement he needed. "I'm sorry for not talking to you sooner and not responding to your calls. I just couldn't face it, not yet."

She placed her other hand on top of his, "It's all right, John, I understand."

"I'm not even sure if I'm doing the right thing by telling you, but you deserve to know the truth. What they said in the newspapers was only half of the story."

He looked over Daisy's shoulder and caught Anna's gaze. She gave him a slight nod of the head and he felt his confidence growing.

"We were travelling from one city to another in a convoy, it was about a two hour drive so we used the time to work on our report. You know we were following the rebels for our report."

Daisy nodded, but remained silent. Of course she knew, William always told her what his next report would be with John.

"Will and I sat in the same car, in the backseat. I was asking questions to the driver about food and weapon supplies, their shelter, how they lived from day to day with the fear, how they explained it to their children and things like that while Will was working on his photos on his laptop, occasionally showing me a good one."

He smiled fondly at the memory and Daisy could easily imagine the scene before her. William had always admired John, even before he started working with him and she could still remember his excitement when he heard he would be working with John Bates.

"I was taking notes while the driver was talking. We were driving for about an hour when he fell silent, choosing to focus on the road ahead instead of my questions. Will and I knew at the beginning of the trip we'd find ourselves in dangerous circumstances, but we weren't that worried. We kept talking about the article, pitching ideas to each other about how we were going to build it up. He showed me the pictures he really wanted to use, saying the people at home needed to realise how serious it was over there and that they needed to hear the full story."

Daisy smiled, recognising William in John's words.

"He was quite a remarkable young lad."

"That he was."

They shared a smile, but he turned serious again, realising where he was going with this story. His eyes searched for Anna's, knowing he could find some comfort with her. She gave him a small smile and his heart started beating a bit faster.

His gaze left hers, but her eyes never left him. Her admiration for him only grew with every word he shared with Daisy and she found herself wishing she could sit with him and take his hands in hers, but she knew she had to banish those thoughts. She could see his shoulders slumping and she knew what was about to come.

He took a deep breath before he continued, "The first blast came out of nowhere, blowing the car at the front of the convoy away. Our driver tried to drive around it, but everything happened so fast and he drove straight into the car in front of us. He flew out of the window on the bonnet, hitting his head. I think he broke his neck and died instantly. Through the crash my legs got stuck behind the driver's seat, clamping my knee and I felt it being shattered through the pressure."

Daisy tightened her grip on his hands, "What about William?"

His eyes wandered to Anna's before he answered, "He was screaming at me, asking if I was all right. I told him my legs were stuck and I couldn't move. He tried to help me, but he had broken his arm and he had a severe head wound as well."

"But he was still alive then?"

He closed his eyes and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Anna watched him trying to compose himself and it took everything she got not to rush to his side and take him in her arms. She sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for him to continue and in that moment he looked up in her eyes. It was as if time stood still for a moment, and she had to hold onto the armchair to prevent her from walking towards him.

Daisy broke their silent link, "Do you want to stop for a moment, John?"

His eyes reluctantly left Anna's to stare back at Daisy, "No it's all right, I can go on."

She squeezed his hand softly and he gave her a small smile, thankful for her understanding.

He took a deep breath before he continued, "The other cars drove towards us, to help us, but they didn't realise they were driving into the minefield as well. The one that came towards us drove over a mine and got blown away against our car, hitting William's side. He slung forward and hit his head again."

Daisy tried her very best to keep her tears under control, but it was of no use, "Was he unconscious?"

John looked up in her eyes, forcing himself to affirm her thoughts, even though he knew it wasn't the truth. This was something he shouldn't tell her. "Yes he was."

She breathed a sigh of relief and in that moment he knew he had made the right decision.

He caught Anna's gaze over Daisy's shoulder and he knew she wasn't convinced. She was frowning, but he merely nodded confirming her suspicions and she didn't say anything.

His eyes went back to Daisy and he squeezed her hand softly, trying to get her to look back at him, "If you want me to stop Daisy, just tell me."

She sniffed, "No, John, I want to know."

He nodded and continued, "By the time the second blow hit us, the locals were running towards us. I kept shouting at them to take Will first, because the blood was streaming down his face and I knew they needed to see to him as soon as possible. I knew he was still alive because I had checked his pulse, but they couldn't reach him unless they took me out first. The other car was blocking the path to Will." He paused a moment, trying very hard to suppress his own emotions. He wouldn't allow himself to break down in front of Daisy. "My legs were stuck, but it took them too long to get me out."

Anna nearly gasped out loud at his revelation, now she understood why he felt so guilty. They had to take him out first, before they could reach William, but they couldn't do it in time, meaning William died.

John looked up into Anna's eyes and he could see tears forming in hers, he quickly looked away, knowing that her tears might awaken his. He tried to gather all his strength to speak his next words, the lump in his throat growing with every word he said, "While they dragged me away from the car, it caught fire and they were too late to get to William. The car exploded right before my eyes."

His voice was so quiet that Anna had to do her best to hear him, her heart went out to him and she could feel a tear streaming down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, but he had seen it before she could. Daisy couldn't hold her tears any longer and she broke down in John's arms. He kept whispering soft apologies to her, but she shook her head against his chest saying none of it was his fault. They remained in their embrace and Anna felt like she should leave them alone, if only for a moment.

John's eyes were on her the minute she stood up, his voice strained by emotions, "Don't go."

His words nearly broke her and she wanted to hold him forever, but she knew she couldn't, "I won't." She offered him a small smile, "I'll make us some tea."

He smiled in gratitude as she left the living room, trying to keep herself composed. She leaned against the kitchen sink, slowly breathing in and out, before she started preparing them a cup. His story had hit her hard as well. She always knew there was more to his story then the newspapers let on and now she finally understood why he felt so guilty, why he said it should have been him instead of William, but she knew he was wrong. She had heard his soft apologies to Daisy, but she was glad to hear her say he couldn't have done anything.

Only yesterday he had been broken, his tears streaming freely down his cheeks, but now he had remained strong for Daisy, hoping to be some comfort for her. She admired him for it, but she could see through him, the times their eyes met she could feel his pain, his voice nearly breaking when he spoke his last words. She felt so strongly for him, but she couldn't show it and it killed her. She knew he felt the same, she could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he acted around her. He wasn't afraid to be himself in her presence and it made her love him even more. She felt another tear falling down her cheek and she sniffed in order to keep herself from breaking down completely. How could something that felt so good be so wrong at the same time?

Walking in his kitchen she was standing with her back towards him, making him unable to see her expression, but her sniffing told him everything he needed to know. There was more than just his story that caused this. He tentatively walked a bit further and he knew the clacking of his cane would alert her of his presence. She turned around quickly and only then did he notice the red circles around her eyes, "Are you all right?"

She nodded and tried to smile, but it was of no use, "I'm fine."

They stared at each other for a long time, but his eyes piercing through hers brought more tears to her eyes. How he wished things were different, he would take her in her arms and offer his comfort like she always did for him. He knew he needed to break this moment, he didn't want to make things awkward for her for when Daisy came back.

"Daisy's calling her mother."

"How is she?" Her voice sounded so weak.

He gave her a faint smile, "Relieved."

Anna nodded and turned back to the stove as the kettle whistled, drying her eyes.

He felt so helpless, he couldn't do anything, afraid to overstep the mark. He needed to keep his distance, but he was drawn to her and her tears broke his heart.

She could feel him stepping closer to her and she closed her eyes, waiting for him. He was so close to her, but not close enough to touch. She could feel his soft breath on her neck and she wanted to turn around and jump into his arms, but that voice inside her head refused.

He knew he shouldn't do this, but he couldn't stop himself. He leaned his cane against the kitchen table and placed his hands on either side of her, nearly touching her but still not close enough.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his body heat behind her and she leaned back, just enough to feel his warmth even closer to her body, but still they didn't touch, they just couldn't. His breath was close to her ear and she wanted to turn around and press her lips against his, but she knew their situation would never allow it.

He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, wishing the barrier between them was non-existent. His voice was hoarse through emotions, "I'm so sorry, Anna."

His words made her open her eyes again and as soon as she turned around he was standing back behind the table, making the barrier between them visible. They stared at each other a while longer, before Daisy entered the kitchen and broke their gaze.

John turned towards her immediately, a kind smile on his lips, "How are you?"

She wrapped her arms around his middle, "Thank you for telling me, John."

Anna couldn't help but smile at the sight and only for a brief moment she wished she could be just as free to touch him and hold him.

Daisy let him go and turned to Anna with a small, teary smile, "Thank you for being here."

John smiled as Daisy gave Anna a hug as well.

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you, Anna, my mum is expecting me."

She nodded and let her go.

Daisy turned back to John, "Don't be afraid to call me, John."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I won't. Will you be all right if we let you go now?"

Anna smiled, recognising her own words as she watched the two walk out in the hallway. Daisy turned around one last time to Anna to thank her, before John guided her back outside. She could hear them talking a little longer and she imagined John's smile while he embraced Daisy one last time.

The sound of the door closing left them alone again.

She refilled their cups with tea and sat back down, looking up as soon as he entered the kitchen. She had so many questions for him, but she couldn't talk about what happened between them earlier. As a therapist she shouldn't have allowed it in the first place, but her body screamed for his touch. What was he sorry for? Sorry for making me love you? Sorry that this can't go anywhere? But she couldn't ask him, she couldn't acknowledge what had happened, no matter how much it pained her.

"How are you feeling, John?" Her question sounded so distant, but she was his therapist and she could be nothing more.

He looked down at her before he sat himself in front of her. Their eyes never left the other's and he remained silent for a while. He didn't know how to feel. He was glad to know Daisy was relieved, but that was as far as his feelings went. _She_ consumed the other part of him, his feelings were all focused on her and he didn't know how to feel. He wanted to hold her in his arms and somehow he knew she wanted it too. She hadn't pushed him away earlier, but he knew he shouldn't have done that. It made everything so much harder.

How did he feel? _Torn_.

"I'm fine." He knew he wasn't very convincing, but he couldn't tell her anything different.

"Are you really?"

He smiled, of course she would see through him. His eyes left hers, knowing he should say at least something, "I lied earlier."

"I know." She was nearly whispering, "Why did you?"

He still kept his eyes fixed on the table, "Because the truth would have broken her and I couldn't allow that."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"Do you want to know?"

He finally looked back up at her, her blue eyes drawing him in.

"If you want to tell me."

She chanced a look down at their hands, realising it would only take a small movement to reach across and hold his hand in hers, but she couldn't.

His hand went through his hair and she already knew it was his way of preparing him for what he was about to say. "Daisy asked me if William was unconscious after the second blow. I told her he was, but he wasn't."

She knew when he told Daisy that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but he must have had his reasons and she didn't want to question him while Daisy was still with them.

"I couldn't tell her that he felt everything, that I heard him scream when the fire reached him, that his scream still haunts me to this day."

The first tear streamed down his cheek and she wanted to reach across and wipe it away.

His teary eyes pierced through hers, "Tell me I did the right thing."

He was nearly begging her, wanting her to ease his mind. "You did the right thing, John. I mean it."

And she did, he lied to protect Daisy. "I would have done the same."

"Really?"

She offered him a small smile, "Really."

He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, "Thank you."

They remained silent, their eyes locked again. It had become their way of telling each other more than words ever could.

She reluctantly broke the silence, "I'd better go."

He nodded and stood up, not wanting to say goodbye, but knowing he should.

She followed him to the door as he opened it, but they turned and faced each other, neither of them ready to let the other out of their sight. Her arms hung awkwardly beside her, forcing herself not to embrace him.

He knew he needed to break their illusion, they couldn't pretend the barrier didn't exist, even though he wanted to so badly. He stretched out his hand, hating how formal it all seemed, but he couldn't do anything else.

She understood what he was doing and why, but the look in his eyes contradicted his actions. She took his hand in hers and felt that thrill going through her again, the feeling of his skin on hers sent her heart racing.

He needed to break the spell again and withdrew his hand, even though he didn't want to.

They said nothing more as she walked away from him, both wishing everything could be different.


End file.
